Resetting

When I first moved to San Diego, I felt strongly that the best thing I could do most of the time was to pray.  Many days, that was the most solid and promising option in front of me.  My job, as it was written, was to follow leads and nudges from the Holy Spirit, hoping to find the transformation of people and cities in the process. 

Almost two years later, I find myself back in the quiet place of waiting.  Appropriate to Advent, it seems that new things are growing - gestating - mysteriously bulging... yet staying out of sight.  I've ridden out a circuit on the missionary roller coaster, and now... I'm waiting for a track change.  I've done the adventure of getting settled and learning my way around.  I've jumped in and plunged my hands into the muck of urban ministry work.  I've traveled and made the rounds; I've learned names and collected cards; I've introduced myself and said goodbye as friends left town.

Now what?

Now, I have had a few successes and I have run into my limits.  Now I have watched as the rules to the game changed, as congregations shifted, and as people made discerning decisions.  Now, I'm getting married.  Now I am leading a ministry team. 

Now what?

Now I pray.  Now I wait.  Now I follow in trust and hope, remembering that with God nothing is wasted-- prayerful waiting included.

Giving Thanks in a Historically Based Sort of Way

The past couple of days, it's crossed my mind a few times to write a bit about Thanksgiving.  Not my list-- though I have plenty to be thankful for.  Not my plans-- they aren't terribly creative (turkey, potatoes, family, friends).  Not my diatribe about how you can't jump into the Christmas season until we've passed this critical juncture in November-- I don't think I'm winning that battle.  Rather, what I want to say on Thanksgiving is pretty simple:

Thank you.

I am thankful for those who knew this land (North America) and were willing to teach very strange, pale people how to survive in it.  I am grateful for this beautiful place that was cherished long before I got here. I am grateful for the legacy of Native North Americans, and I am grateful that racism and genocide did not have the final word in their history-- our history.  

Spurred on by words from Mark Charles, I want to thank those Americans who've been ignored and shut away for most of our national history.  Especially as a follower of Jesus and reader of the history of a persecuted people (in the Bible), I join in mourning and prayer for renewal of indigenous populations. I offer thanks for undeserved generosity and welcome in this land.  Especially on Thanksgiving, I choose to remember things that would be easier to forget, people who have been told they are unwanted and forgotten, circumstances that make it hard for many to be grateful.

When Things Seem Mundane

I admit I've been reluctant to blog lately.  But then, one of those profound thoughts hit me-- the kind of idea that only comes at strange moments like walking to your car or getting out of the shower or peeling a potato.

Regardless of whether my activities feel profound and meaningful, they are still the things that I do for a living.  And the people who support what I do for a living might actually want to know those things too, right?  As Oswald Chambers reminded me this morning (My Utmost for His Highest),

"The tendency is to look for the marvelous in our experience; we mistake the sense of the heroic for being heroes.  It is one thing to go through a crisis grandly, but another thing to go through every day glorifying God when there is no witness, no limelight, no one paying the remotest attention to us.  Even if we do not want medieval halos, we want something that will make people say-- What a wonderful man of prayer he is!  What a pious devoted woman she is!  To the contrary, if you are rightly devoted to the Lord Jesus, you have reached the sublime height where no one ever thinks of noticing  you, all that is noticed is that the power of God comes through you all the time... The test of the life of a saint is not success, but faithfulness in human life as it actually is."

Lately, there's been a lot of 'human life' going on.  Not only the realities of my own life preparing for marriage, but those of my roommates, bopping in and out of our apartment; those of my colleagues in ministry who are re-financing and renovating and sending kids to college; those of my family members searching for and acquiring new jobs; those of my neighbors and friends having birthdays, going to the grocery store, celebrating, mourning, etc, etc.

And in the midst of it all, I don't have many amazing moments of revelation with God.  Most of the time when I peel potatoes, I am just peeling potatoes.  Yet, every now and then, I remember that I live an extraordinary life.  Its extraordinariness does not come from my travels or adventures or brilliant ideas, I hope, but from devotion to God.  To be truly faithful, patient, loving, kind, self-controlled, and submitted to God is an extraordinary goal in life.  And that goal gets played out not at conferences or big events, but in my daily relationships and choices.

Maybe not marvelous, but perhaps not so terribly mundane either.  It's life.  By the grace of God, a life becoming more devoted to Jesus.

By Candlelight

 I hope to attend this on Sunday.  Please pray with me for the men and women who face death on San Diego's streets.

I think of Saints

I promise... my blog has not been captured by a Sara Groves promoter.  But seriously, this woman can write and sing my heart.  I was thinking of this song all day... and then it was the first thing that popped up on Pandora!!!!  So in honor of All Saints Day...

"When the Saints"

Awakening

lyrics by Sara Groves
 
Dress down your pretty faith, give me something real
Leave out the Thee and Thou and speak to me now
Speak to my pain and confusion
Speak through my fears and my pride
Speak to the part of me that knows I'm something deep down inside
I know that I'm not perfect, but compare me to most
In a world of hurt in a world of anger I think I'm holding my own
And I know that you've said there is more to life
No I am not satisfied
But there are mornings I wake up and I’m just thankful to be alive
I've known for quite a while that I am not whole
I've remembered the body and the mind, but dissected the soul
Now something inside is awakening
Like a dream I once had and forgot
And it's something I'm scared of and something I don't want to stop
I woke up this morning and realized
Jesus is not a portrait
Or stained glass windows
Or hymns
Or all the tradition that surrounds us
I thought it would be hard to believe in, but it's not hard at all
To believe I've sinned
And fallen short
Of the glory of God
He's not asking me to change in my joy for martyrdom
He's asking to take my place
To stand in the gap that I have formed
With His real amazing grace
And it's not just a sign or a sacrament
It's not just a metaphor for love
The blood is real and it's not just a symbol of our faith

Memories

"Memories are stacked to form the walls of a history that is both personal and collective.  More like a sandcastle than a fortress, these walls shift... reshaped by the tides of observation.  Within our memories are clusters of events, places, and people that we may at once long for and retreat from."

-Taken from the opening words of an art exhibit in the Albany Airport called "Keeping Time"

Make Disciples

Shared by a colleague at meetings earlier this week.

Been Awhile

I've noticed that all of us blogger-folk say mas o menos the same thing when we've fallen off the wagon.  We've been busy, don't know what happened, and will have captivating new material up soon.  =)  Since I don't need to say any of that...


It feels like life is sort of but not really getting back to normal.  The fall will resume some regular rhythms of small group Bible study and roommate dinner night, but I also find myself in uncharted territory personally and professionally.  I'm now leading the team in which I was the 'new recruit' just 2 years ago.  I'm beginning to plan for marriage with Christian.  I'm considering what kind of commitment I will have to San Diego for the near future.  I'm wondering which ministry activities to pursue and which ones to let go.  It's my norm, yet not at all normal!

I do wish I had blogged through the summer, especially on the Trek.  There are always so many golden moments and nuggets that take place.  Maybe, just maybe, I will post some of them here... but no promises!  First, I want to get you and myself current.  Then, we'll see what else fits in.

Snapshot: Workspace at the Wire

Leaving for the Trek TOMORROW!!!!!
Can't believe it's already here.
Global Urban Trek 2011.  Lima, Peru.
7 weeks, 10 students, 3 staff, 2 ministry organizations.

Romans 12: 1-2 - "So here's what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him. Don't become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You'll be changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it. Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity, God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you."

Snapshot: Discernment

Seriously.  This is what it looks like when I take a day to dialogue with God (and with documents/ notes/ writings) about future direction in ministry.

Good thoughts came out, too.  Common themes: vision, the WORLD, advocate, the poor, mobilize, prophetic discipleship, Church, bridge/ connect/ invite...  It is so cool to see patterns over the years through books and journals and jotted scraps.

Dreams for the Trek

[Departure countdown: 5 days!]
Allow me to share the things we've been dreaming and praying for college students as they come on the Trek to spend 6 weeks in God's cities this summer.  Please pray and dream with me!!!

Primary Trek Objectives:

-      Vocational discernment of what it means to join God’s work among the urban poor—whether as your vocation or not

-      That your life would be changed by hearing and learning from God and other cultures

-      Multiply and enhance the good work being done by our partner agencies—not bringing harm or more work for them, but serving with mutual benefit to all

In this process, we also dream:

-      that you would become lifelong learners, who are able to listen for God’s voice and instruction in any place or situation

o       finding new insight about the nature of poverty and global urban realities through first-hand experiences and stories

o       with a greater understanding of the holistic gospel: seeing and hearing anew what is the GOOD NEWS in your life and in the world

-      that the Trek would plant seeds and create frameworks for long-term changes and actions in your life

-      that you would take new steps and risks in faithfulness and submission to God

-      that you would discover something new and beautiful about the God who loves you, who created you, who nurtures you, who challenges you, who KNOWS you—no matter where you go.

Patient Impatience

(adapted from a personal journal entry 4 years ago)

I often refer to myself as impatient.  What I fail to account for, however, is the paradoxical way in which mission also teaches patience alongside my antsiness.  You see, when you're an American working your way across the world's largest cities, you won't get far without patience.  I will wait for the metro, wait for meetings to assemble, wait for meals, wait for understanding of what's going on.  I will (eventually) patiently accept that God is in control and that I am a small part of God's gradual work in others' lives.  In mission, we are also humbled by God's patience with us: we see glimpses of God's love and hope for us, and yet how painstakingly slow is our response!

So yes, being a missionary is about my inability to sit still and my impatience to go to the margins and encounter Jesus among the 'least of these.'  But being a missionary, if pursued faithfully, is also about being still, sitting at the feet of my Savior.  It's about expecting and waiting and walking more slowly than I might choose.

In the end, I suppose we seek to follow Jesus with a selective sense of patience.  As with the prophets of old, there is no tolerance for evil, injustice, and oppression.  But in the grace of a wholly good God, we find (and emulate) infinite patience with the  human spirit.  A patience that engenders true simplicity and understanding, peace-making and trust.

Church Structures

A tip of the hat to Church of the Saviour in Washington, DC with some good thoughts from their people.

"We have never expected to hit upon that final stable structure.  This is important for a church to understand, for when it starts to be the church it will constantly be adventuring out into places where there are no tried and tested ways.  If the church in our day has few prophetic voices to sound above the noises of the street, perhaps in large part it is because the pioneering spirit has become foreign to it.  It shows little willingness to explore new ways.  Where it does it has often been called an experiment.  We would say that the church of Christ is never an experiment, but wherever that church is true to its mission it will be experimenting, pioneering, blazing new paths, seeking how to speak the reconciling word of God to its own age.  It cannot do this if it is held captive by the structures of another day or is slave to its own structures." 

(Elizabeth O'Connor, Call to Commitment)

"To be in the flow of God's ever evolving movement, we will transcend all traditional and institutional loyalties, including loyalties to the very institutions we ourselves brought into being.  We will adventure out into places where there are no tried and tested ways and be ready to experiment and pioneer and blaze new paths in order to make the news of our extravagantly loving, liberating, reconciling God real to this age."  -Gordon Cosby, Becoming the Authentic Church

People Get You Dirty

I have a visceral reaction when someone comes into physical contact with me and their mess rubs off.  I have distinct memories of times this has happened-- it sticks with me in that iconic, defining way that points to something more profound going on. 

A few years ago in Mexico City, a group of us visited a temporary shelter for families displaced by a mudslide.  The ministry we worked with had developed relationships with families in the shelter, so that several people rushed out to meet us.  One little girl wanted to show us to her house-- each family received their own space in a poorly constructed shed.  We followed her around a few corners into a dark room with a bed and 3 other children inside.  One was an infant, not more than two months old, heavily swaddled.  The little girl scooped up the baby and offered her to me.  I took her, rocked her, and held her while we prayed for the family-- both parents worked all day and this 9 year old was in charge of the rest of the kids.  It was as our faltering prayers finished up that I realized this baby's swaddling was soaked and soaking my own shirt as I held her to my chest.  I sighed; there was nothing to reverse the mess at that point.

A few months ago at a soup kitchen, I was talking with a man who, as we parted, patted me on the shoulder, leaving a trail of crud on my sweater.  Dried soup residue?  Last night's dinner?  I forced myself not to think about it, not to look or pick at it.  Instead, just wearing it.  Part of my day.

Last year I was waiting with a friend to cross a street in L.A. when a man approached us.  He knew her from the meals she served with the Catholic Workers nearby.  He rambled and made very little sense, but as we parted ways he reached to shake our hands.  His hands were crusty-- with weather, disease, dirt or all three, I don't know.  It took conscious effort to give him my hand, to come into contact, and THEN not to wipe it quickly on my jeans or hold it away in disgust.

This morning the devotional at a soup kitchen downtown was about the leper who came to Jesus and told him that he could make him clean, if he chose (Mark 1:40-45).  That is part of what got me thinking about how I am affected by the physical mess of humans, not to mention the spiritual and emotional messes!  (That's a whole 'nother blog post, I'm thinking.)  Yet, I rarely stop to consider: is this an opportunity for cleanness?  - for healing?  -for hope?  I've tended to think that it's a big step simply to be okay with getting dirty.  But what if my focus shifted from the mess I'm allowing and not being threatened by... to the real point apart from the dirt, slime, or crusty crumbles?

The truth is, we're all messy, and our messes get shared and oozed, whether we want them to or not.  But the truth is also that Jesus indignantly reaches out, touches us, and says, "Be clean!"

"Missional" for Mothers (and everyone)

I opened up the latest InterVarsity alumni update and had the inclination to click just one of the articles. Turns out the featured woman is a fellow Williams alum! One of those "coincidences" that brings me a warm, fuzzy, it's-a-small-world-after-all happiness. Not only do I have a shared alma mater with this woman, but she has some solid thoughts on what it means to be true to God's calling and mission, no matter what your profession or stage of life. Her focus is motherhood, but the topic applies widely. Read on:
InterVarsity Alumni - Helen Lee - News - InterVarsity.org

"Courage to be imperfect"

It turns out that those who live vulnerably also live the most wholeheartedly.  Check out this TED talk by Brene Brown.  Among other great points, she hits on the dangerous cycle of numbing ourselves to feelings and how we're wired for struggle but always worthy of love and belonging.  To feel vulnerable is to be alive, she concludes.  Her presentation is deep and entertaining.

From Mexico City Meetings

Once again, I'm back in the enormous city where I started learning how good God was when you look for him at the margins.  I first came in 2005, and I've lost count of how many times I've been back.  Six?  Seven?

I'm here with other Trek directors for time in prayer, meetings and preparation to take students into 5 different cities' slums this summer.  Mexico City, Lima, Kolkata, Manila, and Bangkok.  (I've got Lima, by the way.)  It's refreshing to remember our common vision together, supporting the crazy work that we're all digging into. 

Current statistics show that 1 million people move into or are born in cities each week around the world.

We believe that God is raising up flesh and blood followers of Jesus to incarnate the gospel among the urban poor.  We on the Trek want to help students see the truth that Jesus often calls us into difficult situations, hardship, and suffering.  But when God does that, it's not out of punishment or guilt-- it's because this is the most beautiful adventure imaginable for our lives.  We don't want students responding because they think it's some weighty demand from the Creator of the universe, but because it's an invitation to a life that we wouldn't imagine on our own, a life of deep love from our Father who cherishes every one of his children.

We wrestled today with a desire to not only EXPOSE students to something new and impactful in their Trek city, but to develop their CHARACTER, to give them the tools and grounding to see God truly and to recognize his voice.  In sum, what do we (and our students) need to believe about God in order to enable us to say yes to follow Jesus into the slums and there to discover a life that is beautiful, significant, and adventurous?

I rejoice that this is what meetings are about in my line of work.  This is what prayers are about.  This is what my life can be about.  May it be beautiful, significant, adventurous.

G.O.S.P.E.L.

Take a look and a listen.

G.O.S.P.E.L. from Humble Beast Records on Vimeo.

When there is so much more to say

The problem is, I often fail to say it.

Life these past weeks has been very full, and so much more than Sunday school classes and homework assignments.  Sorry, that was easier to jet straight onto the blog, though!  I hardly know how to capture the other things.

If two months ago you had shown me a snapshot of my personal life today, I think I would have told you to quit making things up.  =)  My roommates and I have grown closer, and we've had a few successful attempts at sharing our home and food -- and we hosted a clothing swap that was a blast!  I'm dating a man who supports, stretches and nurtures every aspect of my life, especially the part having to do with my relationship with God.  (Sorry if you haven't heard in person; dispersed technology makes privacy and disclosure a bit tricky.)  Whenever I'm shocked by all this goodness, I remind myself that it's not like I haven't been praying for these things, and it's not like our Father doesn't give GOOD GIFTS!

Ministry is also dynamic these days.  I love the freedom to pivot and focus on certain things in a given time-- it keeps me on my toes and invites constant discernment.  Right now, the big things in my sights are developing financial partners for ongoing ministry and preparing for the Global Urban Trek in June and July.  I'll be returning to Lima, Peru to direct the Trek, and so these next few weeks are full of accepting students who've applied, lining up host families, and coordinating details with partners in Lima.  During this year, I have become fairly established in San Diego, deepening my familiarity with people and places here.  It's been more difficult to hold that rootedness in a place in tension with my heart for the world, and particularly with my love for the city of Lima.  Yet, my trip there last week reminded me of the joy of stewarding others in distant places, of seeing God's restoration at work, and of bringing people home not just geographically, but spiritually.  Not a moment too soon, God jump-started my dreaming for the Trek this summer, and I am already amazed at how he has provided for it.  It is so exciting-- definitely an experience already of redemption from years that were more difficult.

I was looking forward to Lent this year, largely because I enjoyed it so much last year.  Yet, this morning I woke up and realized that sometimes I've even forgotten about it being Lent.  Partly that comes out of so many things shifting and in motion in my life (with sometimes it being me, literally, in motion)-- whereas last year I felt stilled, in a place of learning and waiting.  I also feel more distinctly the tiredness that falls on so many church people (church workers) leading up to Easter, "the big event," so to speak.  "After Easter" becomes a common time designator, with a sigh.  As for me, I am happily anticipating Easter.  I can't believe Holy Week is upon us.  Aaagh, I would love to reflect on that, too!  There is so much more to say!

All in good time.